Bravery in Snakes
by Firelily93
Summary: When Draco realizes Harry and Ron aren't coming to retrieve Hermione from the sitting room floor he is forced to make a decision between doing what is right and doing what is easy. Dramione
1. Cowards

The sounds were unbearable.

Really he hadn't thought it would turn out this way, honestly. How he thought it'd turn out, he didn't even know, but he definitely wasn't expecting this, or maybe rather he was expecting to feel completely different about it.

When he had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts months of worry and hard work had rewarded him with the destruction of the school that had become his second home and the death of the first man that had ever thought he was something more than a bad kid and reflection of his father's mistakes. Oh how he wished he could take it back, but there had been so much pressure, so much riding on it, including his parent's lives.

His parents, he would almost laugh if he could tear his eyes away from the sight on the floor in front of him. His father, Lucius Malfoy, someone of short temper but high class and regality, someone he had always looked up to and tried to be like. He had always known of course that no matter how hard he tried he would always be more like his mother than his father, but it hadn't stopped him from trying. Now his father was a withered, sniveling coward in his own home. His childhood hero was nothing more than a broken man with a passion for groveling at the dark lord's feet.

His mother, a woman he had always respected, a woman who embodied elegancy and grace, had shrunk down in the past months. Every move she made she seemed to be trying to make herself smaller and less of a target. She flinched at the tiniest of movements and grimaced at her own voice. The woman had once been grand and kind. Her lips would constantly be tilting upwards when he talked to her as a child. She seemed so happy back then

He blamed himself some of this but his father more. His father was at fault for following a madman into a battle. That's what the dark lord was, a madman. He was nothing to be admired. Draco had learned that in the past couple of months. Of course, he would never say it our loud. Madman he may be but Voldemort was something to fear and his followers were just as bad.

He felt his face contort as he took in his aunt Bella hunched over Hermione Granger carving that horrible word into her skin and demanding answers. If the girl knew anything about the sword she was being exceedingly brave. Her screams echoed all around the room periodically, but her whimpering cries were what was killing him. His parents stood there, looking on, like this was the most natural thing in the world to be happening in your sitting room.

"Who stole it!? What else did you take?" Bellatrix growled as she dug the last letter of the word into the girl's skin. Hermione only whimpered and shook her head. Such bravery on her part, such cowardice on his. Here he was standing and watching the sadistic torture of a girl his age and his mouth wasn't even moving in protest.

_Coward_

He thought about it often, how brave the opposing side was and how cowardly he was. Although, he's fairly sure that this is what was expected of him from the very beginning. He's fairly sure that everyone, save for maybe Dumbledore, knew he was a poor excuse for a wizard and not for lack of ability but for lack of bravery and conviction.

Bellatrix spit at the girl and called her some more vile things before backhanding her across the face. Draco finally looked away. The sight was too much. It was when he looked away that he started to think and when he started to think he started to become puzzled. Harry Potter was a lot of things, but he was not the type to sit while he could escape or help. He had been fairly certain that they two boys would have escaped by now, that they would be fighting him and his family to retrieve their third member and that they would be half way out the door.

He listened, really listened over the sounds of the whimpering and the sounds of his own ragged breathing. He heard nothing, no floorboards creaking, no whispering, nothing. Nothing to signal the return of the two boys to the sitting room. His breathing hitched. What if they had already left, what if they had left her in the sitting room and they weren't coming back?

_No, they couldn't have _he assured himself.

They wouldn't leave her to be tortured and killed.

But then he started really listening to Aunt Bella. Her snarling was growing more desperate and more angry.

"What else did you take!?" she cried again at the shaking girl beneath her. _What else could she have taken? _

That's when he knew, he might not be the bravest but he hadn't ever been dumb, dense occasionally maybe, never dumb. Aunt Bella had something of importance in her vault. Something that the other side needed. Her screaming and growling had surely echoed into the cellar where Harry and Ron were taken. The only reason this girl was still on the floor of his sitting room was because the two had left, for the good of the war.

He knew also that she would understand that type of sacrifice. She would respect it even if it meant her death.

Bellatrix let out a low growl and stood from the girl like she repulsed her.

"Bring me the Goblin!" She snapped at his father, who trembled slightly and then nodded. Draco watched as blood dripped from Hermione's wound. "Mudblood" scratched hastily and evilly into her forearm. He wanted to do something.

He looked to his aunt, her hair was flying wildly, her eyes searching into nothingness.

No he HAD to do something. She would die if he didn't do something.

It seemed to happen very quickly after that. He tried not to think about what he was doing or what the consequences might be.

"They're gone!" His father shouted from the cellar stairs but Draco could hear the disbelief and wonder laced into his frustrated tone.

"GONE!?" Bellatrix screamed. Fury seemed to seep off of her. Her face turned a brilliant red color almost the color of the Weasley brood's hair. The room crackled with energy and Bella turned towards the shivering girl weeping silently on the sitting room floor. He saw the coldness in her eyes and the cruelty of her smile. Aunt Bella was more unhinged than ever.

"And left their little girl to play?" Bellatrix's voice was a hallow whisper. Fantasies of torture were expressed in her demeanor. She stomped over to the girl who let out a terrified shriek and hauled her up to look her in the eyes. "They'll regret that I think."

And then time slowed. It happened very fast. Hermione let out a tiny cry and Bellatrix pushed her with unnecessary force with the intent to have her land cruelly and painfully back on the hard wood. But he was moving, he couldn't really believe it was happening. Once step and then another and he suddenly had the girl in his arms.

There was silence. Bella's eyes met his. His mother let out a little whimper as she realized what was about to happen and his father, reappearing in the room, started to speak. Before anything more could be said, before a single spell could be uttered, he thought desperately back to the place his mother had brought him one summer. The summer between third and fourth year to be exact.

It had been a little town, not magical, which had meant that the secret had stayed between them. She had only stayed for lunch because she so wanted to try a little restaurant there and then they had left with full stomachs and smiles on their faces.

With a loud pop that changed the course of his entire life, he apparated.

The street was just as quite as he remembered it being. He thanked Merlin for that. The apparation had caused the poor girl in his arms to blackout. She leaned heavily against him. He hoped he had enough strength to carry her somewhere safe. He hadn't been eating much lately despite the grand feasts Voldemort threw.

_Murderers don't deserve to eat_

He shook his head at the thought. Maybe that was true but he could've used the extra strength now to carry her. He bent down and put one arm under her knees before lifting her to his chest. Her arms hung limply to her sides. Fortunately it seemed as if she had been skipping meals as well. He was able to life her without too much effort and he began to journey down the street to see where they could spend the night. This was a summer town, surely there were some empty vacation homes seeing as winter was upon them.

"Just you and me now Granger," he murmured. She didn't stir.


	2. Change

There was so much pain.

She tried hard to remember what had happened to make her so sore. Hermione felt like every muscle in her body had been abused. She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. Immediately her hand started searching for her wand only to find that it wasn't anywhere on her. He brain began working wildly.

Then she remembered the capture. Her wand and bag had been taken, all the valuable supplies were for not, probably in the hands of thieves now.

The Malfoy Manor sitting room, she shuddered. Bellatrix had taken such pleasure from her screams but they had come unbidden from her mouth. The pain had been too much to simply bite her tongue. She remembered the growls from the older woman, the questions. She remembered how the hard wood had felt cool to her flushed skin and how the knife had felt when it was sinking into her arm.

She looked down now at that forearm, preparing herself to see the word declaring her unworthiness. Mudblood had always been a slightly touchy word for her. Didn't matter how many times she told herself that the word was stupid and that the whole concept of dirty blood was ridiculous, it still hurt, and now it was going to be tattooed into her arm forever. It would be a constant reminder of the war and of the very thing she was insecure about, her magical ability.

It's funny really how a million people could compliment her skill in magic and yet one word could bring doubt into her consciousness.

When her brown eyes met her arm she let out a little breath of surprise. Her arm had been wrapped in bandages. She knew by the pain still seated there that the mark remained, but someone had taken the time to wrap it, probably cleaned it as well.

Her brow furrowed.

_How did I get here_

She looked around the room. A thin but noticeable layer of dust coated most of the furniture. The bed she was laying in smelled of dust as well. The sheets very obviously needed a washing. With all of that said however, the room was well decorated. A muggle painting sat above the dresser and some muggle pictures sat on the night stand near her. Two people and a baby smiling on a sunny day.

She had no memory of this place so she knew she hadn't escaped and apparated here. Someone must of helped her.

Puzzled she thought hard about that. Surely, and hopefully, it hadn't been Harry and Ron. They would have been outmatched by the four wizards in the sitting room and a rescue mission would have been stupid since they hadn't any wands.

She also had hoped against hope that the boys had focused more on what Bellatrix was saying as opposed to her screams. It was obvious to her that Bellatrix had something important in her vault at Gringotts. Most probably this something was a horcrux. She hoped that the boys had realized this as well and had left to live another day and get into the bank so that they might continue their mission.

_So who?_

Honestly she didn't expect that anyone else would have been able to infiltrate the manor though the possibility of any of the Malfoys taking her out of that situation seemed just as slim, maybe Draco.

She had seen his face as he was forced to identify them. There had been fear in his eyes where before joy would lie. As children he had loved to rat them out. Something had changed, something fundamental. In Hermione's opinion it had been a long time coming, but she knew the boys would never see it the way she saw the whole thing.

Draco Malfoy had last taken such joy in being cruel to them in fourth year. After that she had watched as his eyes and gone cold and then slowly turned fearful. The joy was no longer there. A smile no longer lit his face as he poured insults upon them. No, Hermione had seen for a long time the changing tide in Draco Malfoy, but Draco was a coward.

Cowards don't make a stand. They stay as far away from the action as they possibly can. Sometimes they try to disappear into shadows so that they won't be called upon. She remembered briefly the pure disgust Draco's face had held at the Manor as his own aunt had her pinned to the floor. Her eyes, momentarily, had met his face and there was nothing but contempt there and for the first time it had been contempt at his aunt, not at her.

Hermione slowly, so as not to bother any of her injuries, sat up in the bed and turned to put her feet on the floor.

"Going somewhere, Granger?" his haughty drawl came from the door way. Her neck snapped to take him in and in the process she grimaced as pain shot through her. He simply raised a brow at her.

"Is this just a change in scenery or am I really not going to be taken back for more torture?" She couldn't help but wonder if Bellatrix was down the hall, plotting her next move. His eyes flicked down to her bandage, his brow began to crease.

"No one is going to hurt you here." he answered simply and shortly. Hermione felt the need to shield her injured arm from him.

"Forgive me if that's hard to believe." Her tone wasn't anything but respectful, but still he recoiled slightly. She noticed he was far too thin. He looked frail standing there. "My wand?" She noticed that her voice was hoarse, probably from her earlier screaming. She wondered how long she has been out.

His eyes lifted and met hers cautiously. He shook his head. She had figured as much but it didn't mean she missed it any less. Suddenly his was out, she would've been unsure about it if not for the way he lifted it. He cupped it in two hands as if presenting it to the room. His stance showed he had no intent to use it on her.

"We only have mine," he started, "only mine to share between us." She was startled by this, but she tried not to show it. His sudden word choice and decision to share astounded her. As a muggleborn she recognized that not everyone would understand the intimacy of the gesture. Wizards didn't just share their wands with anyone. It was a privilege bestowed upon only those the owner trusted with his or her whole heart.

And a Malfoy didn't share anything

He walked towards her, hesitantly at first, and she recognized the fear and uncertainty in his eyes. He placed the wand on the night stand next to her.

"I'm sorry about your arm, I don't really know any spells to remove it." His sincerity made her drop her eyes. "I cleaned it though. It isn't especially deep but it probably will scar." She had never noticed how melodic his voice was until this moment. It was soothing when he was speaking this way instead of snarling at her.

_Everything has changed_

It really had. Everyone she knew was so effected by the war now. Even this boy before her had been damaged in ways that she couldn't even imagine. She had been changed and damaged as well. She missed the simplicity of her Hogwarts days. It was so easy to be happy back then.

"Do you need anything?" He asked. She noticed that his voice was shaking. He was nervous, like a skittish animal.

She simply shook her head. She didn't dare look up, she was already too confused about his kindness, she didn't need to be studying his face any longer than she needed to. Just by looking at him for the brief amount of time she already had her head was swimming with questions. Questions that she was sure he wouldn't want to answer

His steps away from her and down the hall were much more assured and much more Malfoy than the steps he had taken towards her.

She was so very tired she realized. Hermione knew she should sleep, but her curiosity drew her to the dresser on the opposite side of the modestly sized room. She opened the drawers and looked upon the sparse array of clothing left here by the owners. There were a couple of sundresses, which were useless to her as it was cold in the house and winter was here. In the bottom drawer she found some sweaters which would be much more useful. She studied them carefully and pulled one on. It was a simple black one, warm enough to block most of the chill and it fit her like it was her own. She was about the same size as the woman that left them here.

She closed the drawer softly. Hermione returned to the night stand and ran her fingers lightly over Draco's wand. It was simple and elegant. She missed the intricate carvings on her wand when she looked at it.

She was in awe really that he had left it with her. She could take it in hand and incapacitate him. She could stun him and go get help. She could take him prisoner for their side. The Malfoys were high up in the dark lord's circle and his presence as a hostage could get them much needed information. She knew of course that she wouldn't ever do that, but he didn't. He barely knew her at all.

Thinking of his actions today she decided one thing.

_I don't know very much about him either._

She slipped back into the bed. This time pulling back the covers. She drifted into sleep much faster than she thought she would and she hoped that in the morning her muscles and arm would feel much better.


	3. Annoyance

He was doing it again.

He couldn't stop himself it seemed. He couldn't stop thinking about the mousy girl laying in the upstairs bedroom. Ever since he had apparated yesterday evening he had been thinking of nothing but her. He had found the house they were in about a mile outside of town. Immediately he had placed her in the bed and looked at her, really taking her in. She was furrowing her brow over and over again in her sleep. Her lips pursed.

_Beautiful_

The thought came unbidden and he tried to remove it by physically shaking his head. His eyes drifted downwards and he caught sight of her new mark. On the inside of her left forearm. Draco didn't miss the symbolism of his aunt choosing that part of her body. His hand reflexively curled around his own left forearm where his shirt lay covering his own mark.

_Marred_

His own tattoo had been especially painful as compared to others. The ink had been obstinate, not wanting to take in his skin. It was unusual as far as he knew. Everyone else had always told him that it had been quick to take. His father said that it was because he wasn't allowing the dark lord into his heart. That his own body was showing willful determination to resist the dark magic. His father was so displeased that he allowed Aunt Bella to do it. She had made it especially painful and drawn out. When the tattoo finally showed brightly against his pale flesh she had cackled and left him by welcoming him to the fold.

Draco found himself disgusted by the marred flesh on her arm and set about finding something to wrap it with. The house was filled with old rags and he tore one into long strips. He had to clean it he knew. Only Merlin knew what kinds of nasty things Aunt Bella had used that knife on. When he finally approached her he felt nervous. He was scared she would wake during the cleaning process and fight him.

He was exhausted. He hoped that he wouldn't have to use physical force to keep her here. It was too dangerous for her to leave. They would be out looking for her now, looking for the both of them.

He stepped close and kneeled at the side of the bed, taking her arm in hand. The bleeding had stopped by now and the faints beginnings of scabs were appearing. he wet the wash cloth that he had found downstairs and slowly began wiping the excess blood away. He hoped the water would do enough to prevent infection. He wished desperately that he knew a spell that would immediately heal the wound. He didn't so this would have to do.

After he had washed it cleaned he wrapped it as tightly as he could without cutting off her circulation. He hoped that upon waking she would not be as upset about seeing the bandage as she would be from seeing the wound.

He stood from his place on the floor and hovered over the slim girl for a moment. Her breathing was even and her face was less tense than it had been when he had first laid her down. Her lips parted in a relaxed manner and he tried not to think about how nice they looked.

The truth of the matter was that Hermione Granger was beautiful, even with her wild hair and impure blood status. He wasn't a fool. He noticed a pretty girl when he saw one. He aforementioned hair was strewn across the pillows and a curl hung on her face.

He most certainly had no desire to touch it, move it, or run it through his fingers.

He slept on the couch that night, surprisingly well. The next evening she awoke. At first she was quiet in her mannerisms, timid even, but he should have known that would never last for long.

* * *

"We should go get supplies and food in town." Her voice was nagging, demanding. He winced at it. He had forgotten how annoying she was.

"No," he answered shortly. He was in no mood.

"No!? Surely you understand that we have to eat."

"No, Granger" His voice was more firm this time. She huffed indignantly. She was infuriating.

"You're being difficult for no good reason." Hermione seemed so sure that he was being a brat. Let her think that. He knew that they were too recognizable to be seen in town. Even a muggle one.

_She's a horrible nag._

"I mean look at you! You're horribly thin." He stiffened at her assessment of him. He hated her.

"Granger shut up, what do you want to do? Go out into a populated town and interact with people when you're on the dark lord's shit list?" He struggled to keep from yelling. He tried to remind himself that this girl had been tortured only a few days ago.

"Well Malfoy, yes, how else are we going to live?" He tone was beginning to border on snooty. His lips began to curl downwards into an impatient frown.

She approached him at the window he was currently looking out of. There was a thick layer of snow outside and it glistened in the morning sun. He glanced at her, regarding her posture and expression. Bitch wasn't going to drop it.

"If we go we have to hide your ridiculously unmanageable hair and then find something to change it entirely." He stated. Her lips pursed as if she was trying to figure out if she should take offense and then he saw her working out that her hair would give them away. It was her most recognizable feature and any servant for the dark lord would ask the muggles in town if they had seen a girl with wild brown hair.

"Only if you fix yours too." she commanded, as if he hadn't already been planning on doing such a thing. He knew of course that his hair was extremely recognizable too. He rolled his eyes at her tone.

"Obviously Granger."

He turned on his heel and headed for the coat closet by the front door which was remarkably stocked with two coats, hats, and gloves. He appreciated the preparedness of the home's owners. It may be a summer home but the couple that lived here had left some emergency cold weather supplies. He placed the winter hat on and carefully tucked the ends of his long blond hair in until none remained showing. Hermione had yet to move.

He arched one eyebrow at her.

_Come on Granger._

"We don't have all day," he ordered gruffly, when in fact he was fairly certain that they did. He was thankful when she didn't point that out.

She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and placed the remaining hat on her head. The majority of her bushy hair was hidden and she the set about getting the gloves and coat on.

He looked her over once she was done and with barely a nod in approval he opened the door and strode out into the cold. She was shorter than him and she seemed to be having a hard time keeping up with his pace. Her difficulty seemed to shut her up for the time being and so he didn't slow down. He wished that he had some boots. As it was he was wearing dress shoes and they were getting horribly soaked because of the snow around them.

When they appeared into town Hermione tugged at his sleeve and pointed at a pharmacy on the corner. An open sign flashed in the window. He followed her reluctantly and watched as she searched the selves. The store was extraordinarily empty. He wondered if they would be the only customers that day and the concept made him nervous. It was important that the shopkeeper forget that they came through. He wondered briefly if Hermione had brought the wand along. Maybe they should obliviate the man once they were done here.

She was talking again and he tried to focus on her.

"What color do you want?" she asked quietly. He had to really look at the shelf to understand her question. She was looking at some sort of muggle hair coloring potions. He shrugged and bent down to pick one up. It seemed there was endless possible colors. He decided it didn't really matter and picked one at random. He straightened and took the box she had chosen. He had a little bit of muggle money. His mother had always encouraged him to carry some with him.

He approached the man at the counter. He was a round, older gentleman whose eyes shown and twinkled at Draco. He shuddered, remembering a different old man. An old man he had killed.

"That all for you?" He glanced around. Hermione was still browsing the shelves.

"Yes," Draco answered curtly. The man nodded and scanned the products before asking for the money. Draco passed the amount over to him, hopefully this interaction would be done soon. The quicker the better.

"I haven't seen you two around here before, have I?" Draco had horrible luck.

"No," he replied. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

"Well then, you and your girlfriend have a nice time here, okay?" The man was chuckling. Draco frowned. Correcting him would only add more of a memory of this conversation. He nodded and strode away from the counter with the bag. He grabbed Hermione's arm as he passed her, ushering her out the door as quickly as possible.

_Girlfriend my ass. This girl may be my responsibility but that's it. Nothing intimate._

Hermione pulled her arm away as soon as they stepped outside and looked at him with a mix of confusion and annoyance swimming in her eyes. He merely shrugged for explanation and made his way to the grocery store that was sitting down the street a bit.


	4. Acceptance

Hermione understood it.

There wasn't much she didn't understand if it was presented to her. She was a glutton for knowledge. She understood Draco Malfoy's gruffness and mood swings. One minute he's be silent and calm the next he would be aggressive and mean. It had nothing to do with her. She was sure of that at least. He was upset but the cause of that seeping and consuming sadness and anger had nothing to do with her.

She understood when he wasn't really listening. She understood when he handled her in a rough manner. She understood when he yelled and when he was eerily quiet.

Just because she understood doesn't mean she liked it.

_Bastard_

He was one. He was an arrogant bastard just as much as she was a know-it-all. He was a dick who had somehow plucked up enough courage to save her, but that seemed to be the extent of it. Bravery in Slytherins was hard to find and harder to cultivate.

They had returned from their shopping trip and he had immediately excused himself to change his clothes. She guessed that his feet were half way frozen since the dress shoes he wore couldn't have done anything to help with the snow outside.

She had begun unloading the meager amount of food that they had collected. When she was finished she kept herself busy by opening their pharmacy bag and picking up her own hair dye. She had chosen a strawberry blonde color. She had always wanted to see herself with another hair color, but had never actually dyed it, dismissing the whole thing as silly and a waste of time. She was practical if nothing else and now that hair coloring fulfilled a practical need she was able to experiment with blonde.

"So how's it work?" His voice was soft as he bent to examine the box he had picked. She was mildly startled. She had begun to notice that his foot falls were decidedly soft unless he was trying to make a scene.

"Yours will be easy since your hair color is so light to begin with." Hermione placed her own box down and reached out her hand towards him in a silent demand of his product. He handed it over grudgingly and she looked over the color. He had chosen a light brown. She wondered how it would look. "I can help you apply it if you want." He seemed to shift uncomfortably at the suggestion.

Hermione ignored him and began to roll her sleeves up. She looked at her arm where the word Mudblood was starting to heal and scar. She looked away, favoring instead his face. He, however, was just as transfixed on the mark as she had been. His face contorted into a sharp frown.

"Malfoy?" He startled and met her stare.

"How does one apply it?" He asked curious. She was relieved that he didn't draw any more attention to her arm.

"I'll have to mix it and then put a layer of it all over your hair."

"You can't just drink it?" He asked with distaste. Obviously the idea of a mystery ingredient in his hair was unappealing to him.

"No, unless you want to get very sick, and even then your hair wouldn't change colors. It has to go on that way. We can do it here in the kitchen and rinse it out in the sink once it's done." She looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer.

"Fine," He agreed and then he stood there waiting for her to begin. She opened the box and took out the contents. Hermione bit her lip. She would have to say it. She didn't want to, but she was knew he wasn't going to know to do it on his own.

"While I'm mixing it you should get a chair and take off your shirt." He stiffened at her order. Then she began to feel the tension come off in waves.

"Excuse me?"

"You need to take off your shirt. This is quite messy to begin with and it's just easier that way." Her eyes didn't dare meet his.

There was a pause as if he was rolling her words over in his head, assessing them for flaws.

"I'd rather not," he replied tersely

"I'm not some pervert Malfoy. I'm not going to look at you." Hermione was becoming increasingly insulted. It was becoming a much bigger deal than it had to be. Another pause.

She finally looked up and he was looking off into space, an angry expression on his face.

"You aren't the only one with a fucking mark Granger." She tried to hide her sudden intake of breath. The dark mark. She hadn't even thought about it. Apparently it was a sensitive topic for him. He didn't want to be exposed that way.

She huffed, looked at the newly mixed dye and made up her mind.

She quickly and expertly pulled her shirt over her head and dropped to article on the floor next to her. Her eyes met his in challenge. She noticed as his lips parted in surprise before he set his expression as impassive. He went to the kitchen table and carried a chair over by the sink.

She would've smirked if she, herself, wasn't feeling so exposed. She knew he wouldn't back down from a challenge with her. The cold air of the kitchen was making her increasingly aware of her own body. His eyes seemed to avoid the newly exposed skin at all costs.

_Typical _she thought, but she was grateful for his apparent revulsion.

His slender fingers began to unbutton his shirt. He met her eyes the whole time. The whole time up until he pulled the shirt off and his arms were exposed. Then he looked over her shoulder. She noticed his jaw tighten. She looked, only briefly, at the mark. It slithered slowly across his forearm. The exact place her skin was scarred.

Her eyes momentarily took in the rest of his exposed torso before she shook her head. It was a bad idea to start looking at him that way and it would be very easy to. He was thin but his body still held toned muscles that were not at all unappealing for her to look at.

_Handsome_

After a moment of consideration she set about applying the dye. Her gloved hands coated his white locks with the gooey mixture and she made sure to get every piece. He was stiff the whole time she was touching him and let out a growl when she had informed him that he had to wait ten minutes to wash it out.

She knew better than to ask questions, but she had always been one to push her luck. Especially when it comes to gaining knowledge.

"When did you get it," She asked. She winced when her voice cracked.

"Anyone every tell you that you are annoying?" He asked in frustration. If he could become more tense than he already was she was sure it would happen then.

"You saw me get mine," She pointed out. She watched his hand clench around the arm of the chair.

"Surely Potter told you I had it."

"Harry doesn't know when you got it Draco, only when he thought you had it."

"It was a long while ago," she thought she could hear a tremble in his firm tone. "Barely a week out of fifth year."

She nodded, although he couldn't see it, she was still standing behind him.

"Does it hurt?" She had heard stories about the feelings associated with the mark, but she had never asked someone that had it. The possibility for new information astounded her.

"Now or when I got it?"

"Both," She found her voice to be more and more sure as this conversation went on.

"When I received it the pain was terrible. Now it just seems to sit there, the pain. Sometimes when he's summoning it will be unbearable, but mostly it's like an ache." He adjusted himself in his seat. "That's enough now."

She thought about pressing it, but considering his foul mood this morning in town, the fact that it was a touchy subject, and the fact that he seemed to be getting more and more antsy about his hair she let it lie.

"We can wash it out now, if you lean over the sink I can wash it out for you."

Draco grunted ineloquently in response and stood from his chair. He was much taller than her she realized suddenly. He leaned over the sink with arms placed on the edge of the counter and looked at her expectantly. The sink had the nice more modern detachable heads and she made quick work of getting the goo out of his hair. His hair was much softer than she expected. She found herself enjoying the feel of it in her hand.

_Enemy_

She paused at the thought. She supposed he still was. He hadn't mentioned anything about wanting to change his convictions. All he had done is save her which was wonderful, but it wasn't the same thing as changing sides.

She turned the faucet off and handed him a hand towel to dry his hair with. He took it from her quickly and left the room. She knew he couldn't stand being close to her for too long. She knew she annoyed him. She was appreciative of his sacrifice and company though.

She wondered what his plan was, or if he had one. He couldn't go home after removing her from the manor. In fact, she was sure that if he did he would be killed. It probably wouldn't be a fast death either as he had stolen one of the most wanted people in the wizarding world out from under the dark lord's most trusted family.

No he couldn't go back until the war was won by the light and if it was won by the dark then he would spend the rest of his life in hiding. She supposed that was good enough reason for his general impatience and hostility to her.

She had to accept that she had been a catalyst to a life changing event for him. She picked up her own box of hair dye and twirled one of her tangled curls around her finger. She found herself wishing her hair felt half as nice as Draco's.


	5. Dedication

It wasn't his fault.

He was laying on the stupid lumpy ass couch again unable to fall asleep. It wasn't his fault though, it was hers. She was why he was finding it impossible to fall asleep.

First off he had selflessly, if he did say so himself, given her the bed from the first night here. Had he received a thank you? No of course not. Second, She was constantly pushing his buttons. One might say he was overly sensitive, but fuck that. She was doing it on purpose.

_Bitch_

And then there was that other thing. The completely baffling reason he couldn't fall asleep. Draco Malfoy could not stop thinking about how her fingers had felt in his hair. He had almost shivered it felt so good. When she had finished removing the stupid muggle hair potion from his head he had been _dissappointed. _DISSAPPOINTED! He couldn't believe it.

He growled and got up for the third time since he had laid down six hours ago hoping to get some sleep. He kept having these crazy thoughts about someone slipping in and stealing her away while he was being distracted with thoughts of her nimble fingers on his scalp.

_Good radiance_

Merlin he wished she was gone, but at the same time he couldn't help but have a nagging suspicion that he would worry about her if someone took nagging know-it-all was his responsibility now. He cringed as the stairs creaked under his weight. He'd just check again and make sure she was still huddled up in the bed before returning to the couch and trying again to get some sleep.

He just needed to check.

He pushed the door open slightly and stuck his head in. Her hands were curled around his wand. It wasn't the first time he had noticed her sleeping like that. They barely used the wand here, mostly there was an unspoken agreement to use it only when they had no other choice but she seemed to be drawn to it at night. Maybe she had nightmares. Nightmares that were probably about his sitting room floor. He shivered and he pretended it was because of the winter cold.

He listened to the rhythmic intake of her breath. Her face was almost completely covered by her newly dyed locks. The blonde coloring looked far less natural on her but it was pretty. She shifted and he realized he was lingering too long. His mother had always told him that people can tell when something is staring at them, even when they are asleep. She had said it was part of the animalistic instincts we still had.

"Malfoy?" Her soft and sleepy voice drifted over to him. He felt heat rise up on his cheeks. He had been caught.

"Thought I heard something," He lied cooly, "just making sure you were alright. Go on back to sleep." Draco tried to make it seem like an order, but she was rising to sit up in bed and her hair was tumbling down onto her shoulders and he couldn't help but notice it looked beautiful.

"Have you slept?" She asked wiping sleep from her eyes.

_Adorable. Stupidly Completely Adorable_

He hated her

"Not really," he admitted slowly. She beckoned him into the room, gesturing with her hand. When he stepped in he closed the door quietly behind him. The click of it suddenly seemed ominous like there was no going back. He had the urge to run out of the room especially when she patted the bed and scooted over to make room for him to sit.

His feet moved, thank Merlin, and then he was sitting on the edge and she was lowering herself to lay next to him. She was still tired. Her eyes drooped shut as if a heavy weight was pulling them down.

"Where do you sleep? I've never really thought about it," She yawned and her bright brown eyes searched his. Granger, always looking for more information.

"On the couch." he replied to her simply. He watched her long eyelashes caress her face as she blinked slowly. Noticed her brain begin to process his words.

"You could sleep here you know. I really don't bite."

"I don't think that would be a good idea." She looked away from him at that and pulled her forearm close. He noticed the movement, but made no move to correct her. If she wanted to believe that his reasons for not sleeping in the same bed with her had to do with blood status that was her prerogative. Honestly he preferred her reasoning over the truth. The horrible, sickening truth.

Draco Malfoy was afraid because he was beginning to notice acutely that the girl next to him was making him feel good. Whether that be a physical attraction or something else entirely he knew he had to stop. He had to nip this in the bud.

She made a movement and began to curl into herself. Her hands once again reached for the wand which lay just out of her grasp. He picked it up and gave it to her. His heart clenched as he noticed how steadfastly she avoided his eyes.

"Thanks, goodnight Malfoy,"

He took that as his order to leave, but her tone was far less bossy than normal. He was glad that running away was a cowards specialty. He found that it was much easier to leave the room than to stay. He was no good with words or feelings or even people. He was ill practiced at compromise. He wasn't prepared for Hermione Granger in any way shape or form and the more she talked to him and asked him things the more he began to feel uncomfortable.

Sleep wouldn't come even when he returned to the couch. It was all her fault. He thought about it again. The feeling of her touching him on his head, threading her fingers through his hair. He didn't sleep until the sun was rising and the birds were beginning to chirp.

* * *

When he woke up he woke up to the smell of eggs. Hermione was humming in the kitchen. The sound was insanely strange. She was driving him crazy with her behavior. Didn't she remember that she was being hunted by Voldemort? That her best friends were out doing whatever those idiots did during times like these without her? That he was living with _him_!? Merlin she was out of touch. Humming in a god damn war time.

He hated that he liked it.

He hated her.

Draco sat up on the couch and brushed his hair back into place the best he could. He stretched the stiffness of his sleep out of his muscles and stood to join her in the kitchen. He was finding that she often didn't notice him standing near her unless he announced his appearance. He found sick enjoyment out of the tiny fearful jumps that she would involuntarily suffer at his sudden presence.

"Granger," He greeted. She jumped noticeably and turned to look at him. A small smile graced her face. He had to clear his throat, it suddenly felt like something was caught in it.

"Hey, would you like some eggs? I know it isn't much, but I figured I'd do something and since you were still sleeping I thought it would be nice to make both of us breakfast." Her voice was ever hopeful. At the moment there was no command to it, which was unusual. She seemed relaxed. He hadn't the heart to tell her that eggs were probably his least favorite breakfast food.

"Sure," was all he said. She visibly suppressed a large smile and handed him a plate that had a modest amount of scrambled eggs on it. She served herself and met him at the kitchen table. Her eyes kept flicking over to him in way that he assumed she thought was sly. She was hoping to gauge his reaction. Draco was the master of hiding reactions.

"Do you like them?" She had never been a patient girl.

He gave her a short nod. She seemed to radiate energy from the small gesture. She was ridiculous.

"I used to cook for my parents, I learned from my dad." The statement was simple but he notice her deflate slightly. He had never wondered what had happened to her parents. Their lives seemed to be so different. His parents would have never allowed him in the kitchen at home, her parents had encouraged it.

He wondered about who he would've been if he had been raised by muggles like she had. He could honestly say it was the first time something like that had crossed his mind and he felt the blame for the thought itself lay with his strange relationship with the girl. What was it about her that was making him feel so strange. He didn't like it. He was having a hard time understanding how Potter or Weasley would have put up with her for all these years.

Surely she made them feel just as strange?

Maybe they felt this sort of dedication to her as he did. He felt he needed to continue to be here, around her, to protect her. Maybe that's exactly how those boys felt. He couldn't be sure. He hoped that this wasn't some illness that only he had acquired. He certainly felt ill when he looked at her if this heat that was coming over him was any indication.

She was aggravating.


	6. Difficult

_Let's just assess the situation _

Hermione was trying to think rationally. She had been avoiding serious thought for the last couple of days. Just this morning she had made breakfast for herself and Draco just to put herself at work and avoid these thoughts. It was past time now to consider the position she was in and how she should be dealing with it. She tried to remain calm as she took stock of what she knew.

She knew that there were still horcruxes left to be found. She knew Ron an Harry had escaped the manor and were searching for them without her. She didn't resent this although she wished that she was there to help. Maybe this would be good for them. They'd finally appreciate all the things she's been doing to help them out over the years and finally start acting like men.

_I can only hope_

She also knew that Voldemort was looking for her and Draco. It was very clear to her that their escape would have angered him just as much if not more than Harry's escape from the manor. Voldemort wanted complete control over his subjects and the thought that one of his own would defect and take a hostage away... she was hoping to never find out how angry it had made him.

She knew she could leave the house Draco had found for them, but this would mean either leaving without a wand or leaving Draco without protection. Both of these options seemed equally unsatisfactory. Plus, she really had nowhere to go. The boys could be anywhere by now and she wouldn't ever be able to catch up to them.

There was also something strange going on between her and her companion. The air between them was thick and she could feel his eyes on her. He was always looking at her, considering her, most of the time with a scowl on his face. She had a hard time reading him. He wasn't dense like Ronald. He wasn't emotionally open like Harry. He was something else entirely.

Draco Malfoy was smart, cunning, and sharp. His eyes held a depth to them that told her he was constantly thinking. He was also closed and stoic. She wasn't used to it.

"Granger," His voice startled her. His voice, deep and graceful. He had a certain way of pronouncing things that screamed educated. She turned to meet his eyes. He arched a brow and gestured at the sink that she was blocking. God, she was in his way again.

Hermione tried to move in a casual way that hid her embarrassment and instead she ended up tripping over her own feet. The familiar sensation of falling graced her senses. Of course, she would be clumsy at the most horrible of times. She scrunched her face and waited for impact with the hard floor.

Something very strange happened. The clattering of glass breaking met her ears and suddenly and quite unexpectedly she felt hands curl around her waist. She never hit the floor. She opened one eye cautiously and then the other.

Draco's slim hands were wrapped around her hip bones. His eyes flashed as she met his gaze. There was that tension again, something undefinable, something...

_Intense_

_Burning_

_Confusing_

_Addicting_

She watched as he clenched his jaw like he had when she had asked about his mark. His brow creased and then unfurrowed as her looked at her, examining her. She presumed he was checking to make sure clumsiness was the only thing she was suffering from. He made sure she was back on her feet. For some reason his hands lingered, heat licked the exposed skin his hand was touching. Her shirt had ridden up the barest amounts. Enough that his fingers sat upon flesh and not cloth.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. The moment seemed intimate. For the life of her she couldn't recall why she was sorry, just that she felt she should say it. His hands gripped her tighter before leaving her body altogether.

"You need to be more careful." He contemplated the broken glass that littered the kitchen floor. "Merlin knows how you've made it this long without being killed."

Embarrassment flared within her and tinted her cheeks with a pink hue.

"Excuse me!?" Her voice was overly shrill. How dare he insinuate that she was anything other than deserving of how long she had survived with a madman out there trying to eradicate her and everyone she loved. Draco, for his part, looked seemingly unfazed by her sudden anger.

"You do realize that when you raise your voice that way you sound like a cat in heat right?"

"You are absolutely infuriating!"

"And you are absolutely the most annoying girl I've ever met."

"You've met PANSY PARKINSON and _I'm_ the most annoying girl you've ever met!? You're bloody insane." She was furious now. She couldn't believe she was stuck with him.

_Maddening_

"At least Pansy knows how to walk without tripping over herself."

"At least I'm not a slag."

"Pansy wouldn't be singing and skipping around here like life was perfect during a bloody war time."

"Oh, you're right. Pansy would be here trying to fuck you during a bloody war time, that's much more acceptable!" Her voice was cracking now because of the sheer amount of outrage her body was containing.

"At least Pansy knows how to fuck. You'll probably die a virgin. Virginal Gryffindor Princess. Apple of everyone's bloody eye. Do you even know how much shit Pansy had been through? You've never been through anything worthy of your bitchy fucking attitude so don't bring Pansy into this." It was the first time his voice had wavered into anything resembling emotion during the argument, but Hermione couldn't fucking care less. She was shaking. Shaking with barely concealed rage.

She fought to control her tone. Her voice came out sickeningly sweet.

"You're right Malfoy, I haven't been through anything. Tell your parents I appreciate my last visit. They were so hospitable." And with that she tore out of the room. Out of the house. She didn't even feel the biting cold. She hadn't stopped to get a jacket.

_Arse_

She was going to go into town and get her mind off of the stupid brat she was stuck with. That stupid, spoiled, worthless brat. She could feel the tension in her body, the pure energy crackling in the air. That was something about being a witch. The magic was always poorly concealed during intense emotions.

Hermione took a deep breath of the icy air. She knew she had to calm down before any muggles saw her. She didn't want to do something accidently. Not to mention she had no intention of alerting any wizards in the area of her presence. She didn't want Voldemort or the Death Eaters showing up here.

_Anything but that_

Perhaps when she returned Draco will have left the safe house, she thought pleasantly. Perhaps he would simply leave and she would work on getting in contact with the people that loved her again. That sounded so lovely to Hermione that she felt her anger begin to dissipate, taking with it all tangible signs of her magical abilities.

She missed Hogwarts. She missed crying in the bathrooms over not having friends in first year, she missed doing the boy's homework assignments, she missed the days when her biggest problem seemed to be that Ronald didn't return her stupid juvenile crush. Yes, life had been much easier back then. She had been able to really enjoy and use her magic. She had learned and absorbed so much and still had so much to learn, but she had left Hogwarts. Harry had needed her to and she couldn't help but think sadly of the castle. She knew without a doubt that they students there were not fairing any better than her. The school without Dumbledore had fallen fast. She pondered the fate of her beloved head of house McGonagall.

Hermione let out a sigh. Things were certainly more difficult now than she had ever dreamed they would be. There had to be a way to make everything right again. There had to be a way she could help Harry and Ron, even if they were miles apart.

Her thoughts turned quiet and she realized rather fast that the crunching of her boots in the snow were not the only sounds. Hermione rolled her eyes as she recognized the distinct sound of Draco Malfoy trudging behind her. He was giving her wide berth but yet he was there, following her, watching her. She was beginning to think he had an unhealthy obsession with her. They weren't friends. They weren't anything really, but yet he was sticking to her like she was some sort of life source.

_Annoying really_

Something stirred in the depths of her stomach that made her feel vaguely ill. She refused to acknowledge that it may be anything but some sort of stomach bug. It did feel strangely similar to butterflies though.

_Preposterous _


	7. Follower

It was useless lying to himself.

He had saved an insane girl. There was no way around it. She was bat shit insane and she was dragging him down that road as well. He stuffed his fingers into his pockets under the pretense of keeping them warm but the truth was his fingers had not stopping burning and tingling since he had touched the skin of her hips.

She was a slender girl. Not that he cared. Not that it mattered. Because it didn't. She was insane. He was certain that it was a contagious sort of insanity. She was slowly doing things to his body and to his mind that he found to be completely unacceptable. He looked up and gazed at the source of all his problems. She was walking less dramatically now, the tenseness in her shoulders seemed to be lifting. Her golden hair was shimmering like the snow was in the fading light of the sun. Damn poetic really.

He studied the lines of her body.

_Just so I can recognize her in a crowd_

Her slim shoulders seemed to be comprised of entirely too thin bones. Her back bowed in around her waist before flaring out and becoming shapely around her arse. It was a nice arse. That he could admit. He was seventeen. It was normal to think that way about women, even if the women in question were out of their minds. Her legs were long and thin. The jeans she wore clung to them. He noticed this now and could remember her looking downright ugly in first year. Somehow the transformation years seemed completely lost to him. He couldn't remember a time where he had thought that she was starting to become less ugly. He could only remember a day in sixth year where he had looked up and saw her standing in the middle of the doors leading to the great hall.

The previous night he had received very little sleep after another failed attempt to fix the vanishing cabinet. He had made it to breakfast rather late and she seemed to be finished, like she had been caught walking out by the guy she was talking to. Seamus Finnigan, he remembered, the boy that always seemed to blow everything up in potions class. Anyway, he had looked at her and suddenly he had been struck with how god damn beautiful she was. She had been smiling at the boy, not in a romantic way, but still a way that was strictly for people that were not him. He had become slightly jealous just by looking at her smile and realizing that she was gorgeous. It had shaken him to the core and for the rest of the week every time he could he had snuck glances at her, trying to determine if it was lack of sleep or if she really was that beautiful.

It was as if she had become beautiful over night. He had mentioned as much under his breath while crying to Moaning Myrtle. She had been asking him what was bothing him and instead of telling her that he was scared the dark lord was going to kill him over his inability to get a bloody cabinet to work he had blurted out a small sentence about Hermione Granger being beautiful. That wasn't why he had been upset. Or at least she hadn't been the whole reason. Not even close. But still, it had happened over night.

_Impossible_

He had just over looked what had been happening before his eyes, too caught up in his problems to notice her changing. Not that he should've been noticing anything about her. She was strictly off limits for a number of reasons, the least of which her insanity.

"You know I can hear you right?" She called to him as her pace slowed. She threw a look to him over her shoulder. She was clearly unimpressed.

"If I didn't want you to know I was here you wouldn't." He was quite confident of that. He was pretty good at being sneaky. It had been a trait of his since he was little and he couldn't say that being a Slytherin had helped to break him of the habit.

She simply shrugged

"Well do you want to stay back there or would you like to walk next to me and at least pretend to be a normal person?" There was that bossiness in her tone again. Merlin, her moods changed at the drop of a hat.

She paused in her step and he paused in his, regarding her.

"Yeah okay," he muttered and he brought himself over to her side. Her mouth was set in a firm line and he had trouble determining her mood. Not that it mattered, she would have a whole new mood in two minutes tops.

She was hard for him to grasp. Her motives and reactions were different from what he was used to.

She was leading them towards a little restaurant in town. The same one his mother had taken him to years ago. Not that she knew that. He would probably never tell her either just so he wouldn't have to deal with the insulting way she was sure to speak about his mom. Narcissa may be a lot of things but a bad mother she was not and he would resent any bad words that tumbled from the Gryffindor about her character.

The warmth of the diner flooded his senses and he took a deep breath. The place smelled exactly the way he remembered. Hermione took a seat at a table a little ways from the door. The place was fairly empty and part of him was glad, but he wouldn't have minded more people, only for the sake of blending into the crowd.

"The town's newest couple!" Immediately Draco's shoulders tensed. It couldn't be.

_Merlin, please_

Both he and Hermione turned and he immediately recognized the old man from the pharmacy a few days ago. The twinkling of his eyes still made Draco want to turn away.

"How are you two?" The old man asked and Draco watched as Hermione's head turned. Her eyes were calculating.

"Yes, Draco, How are _we_?" If looks could kill he would surely have died twice over.

"_We _are fine, great actually." He replied. The old man looked pleased enough with the reply.

"Been telling everyone around town that we have some new visitors this winter. No one believed me at first and then Joe from the grocer confirmed that he had seen you two as well." He chuckled like the story was comical. Draco hadn't heard one funny thing, certainly nothing that warranted jovial laughter. "Told 'em. Said the prettiest little thing and her boyfriend had walked into my shop. We don't get many costumers during the winter. I remember every single one. Was wondering when I was going to see you again."

Hermione smiled politely.

"Yes, we're just trying to have a date night actually," She replied sweetly. The man took a step back to consider them.

"Oh, well don't let me interrupt. I'll give you two some privacy." He announced loudly looking at a woman wearing a uniform. He gestured wildly at them as if trying to communicate in the least subtle way possible that these were the two young people he had been talking about.

The waitress came over straight away and greeted them with a warm hello. Draco had scowled and ordered immediately. Hermione followed suit and the woman had enough sense to not strike up a conversation.

"Well _Draco_ why would you tell anyone that _we_ are dating?" Her voice was hushed but her angry tone was back.

"I never told anyone we were dating, just didn't correct him that's all."

"Well congratulations for fucking everything up. I don't want anyone anywhere for any length of time to believe we're dating." Her scowl was beginning to rival his.

"Well what would you rather them believe Granger!? That I'm on vacation and living with a girl who I'm not romantically attached with? You know how bad that would look. It would look like-"

"Like I was a whore?"

"Well something of the sort."

"Honestly I'm not sure that's worse than being considered your girlfriend."

"You're such a bitch."

"Oh, yes I'm the bitchy one here." She snorted ruefully at the suggestion.

"Are you suggesting I am?"

"Did I say that?"

"You implied it." He was feeling the beginnings of heat on his cheeks. Blushing out of embarrassment would not look good at this moment. He tried to clear his mind.

A time passed and Hermione began adjusting her hair. He watched as her eyes scanned the room taking everything in. One might think her glances were casual, he knew better. She was assessing everyone around her for possible threats, escape roots, and places to take cover. He did the same thing when he entered a new place. It wasn't good to be unprepared.

"Back at the house I didn't mean what I said." His own voice startled him and apparently her too. Her calculating light brown eyes met his. He held her stare.

"Is that an apology?" He simply shrugged. He wasn't about to go into the wrongs of what was said. Malfoys weren't really suppose to be wrong. She seemed to accept it though. Her eyes lingered on his face, checking for sincerity. Then she nodded slowly.

"I don't know Parkinson. I'm sorry if I was cruel about her." She sniffed.

Draco decided it was probably best to just say nothing.


	8. Fearless

She supposed that her situation could be worse.

She knew that really. She had always known that, but it didn't mean she was happy. She may have been acting like she didn't have a care in the world but it had been a poor attempt to quell her worry over the situation. She supposed that she couldn't blame Draco for doubting her in that regard.

So there she was laying in bed trying to figure the situation out. It was a puzzle of sorts. Hermione Granger had been saved by the most unlikely of people from the most dangerous situations and now she was being forced into close proximity to him. She hadn't found herself thinking this much about Draco Malfoy since she was a little girl.

When she had first went searching for Neville's toad on the train she had run into him briefly and it had been a surprisingly pleasant interaction. Later on she had caught herself staring at him from time to time and wondering what he was like, if he wouldn't mind talking to her. She had imagined all sorts of things about him. Trying to come up with stories and theories about his life. She had fancied herself in love with the boy. Being eleven was strange that way. That was until she realized how mean he was. That's when she began to be disillusioned by him.

Maybe he was not truly mean but he was reacting to outside circumstances? Her mind had raced. It wasn't until the next year when she had confronted him and he had called her that ugly name that she had given up her fascination with him. Now that word was scarred into her skin and she knew for certain that she would never escape it.

Perhaps that was how Draco felt about his own mark? She couldn't be sure.

Hermione reached out to take hold of the wand that sat beside her bed. She ran her finger over the simple double raised rings. Simple, dark, and regal, the wand only ever made her wonder more about him. She felt safer with it in her hand, but she couldn't quite understand why. She would like to play it off as feeling protected, but she knew it was more than that. It was a tangible link between her and Draco. The boy that had saved her life.

_Stranger and Stranger_

She wanted to ask him endless questions but she knew he clammed up after one or two. He was tight lipped and tense. She wondered what it would take for him to feel comfortable with her.

She wondered if he was already asleep.

She wondered if he dreamed about horrible painful things like she did.

Hermione grasped the wand tightly and swung herself out of bed gracelessly.

The hard wood against her bare feet made her shudder but she moved downstairs towards the couch he apparently slept on. He was longer than the length of it she noticed as she approached. It would've made her uncomfortable to sleep on something like that if she was his size.

"Granger, sneaking around after dark is a good way to get your head blown off." His voice was deeper than normal. She realized she must have woken him. She moved around to face him properly. He raised a unimpressed brow at her. She was glad for the darkness as she felt her cheeks start to flush.

"How are you going to do that it I have your wand?" Her voice had a teasing quality that she swore she hadn't meant to let in. He was laying there, hair all mussed, face impassive, shirt off and blanket dropping off to one side. He looked different.

_Handsome_

"I don't need a wand. Dark wizards can do a lot more than you think."

"Is that what you are? A Dark wizard?" Her voice, Merlin her voice, she needed to control it. She was starting to sound flirty, she didn't mean it that way but she could hear it. Her tone was seductive.

"You down here for anything specific Granger? Anything I can... help you with?" Oh god she was going to burn up. There was the heat of the embarrassment in her face and a whole other kind of heat in her panties just starting to stir. His voice was just as seductive as hers. Really she should leave, turn on her heel and run, but she didn't. She stayed stuck in place. Her knees had locked up.

_Traitors_

"I- um, No not really."

"You sure?" He asked and now she could see a smirk spreading across his face. He was enjoying how uncomfortable she was.

"Quite sure... I just was having a hard time sleeping. Didn't mean to wake you."

"You just meant to stare at me while I was sleeping then?" She could hear a laughter behind his words. She hated him.

"No," She was horrifyingly embarrassed now.

"If you say so."

"I do." Hermione fought to control her tone. As much as she wanted to be angry she couldn't be. She had just been caught. Sometimes she wished she wasn't so inquisitive. She had always envied Harry who seemed to be able to sneak around with little to no consequence. What she wouldn't give to be with Ron and Harry. They never made her feel this way. She felt like she was going to combust under his speculative gaze alone. "Maybe I was only going to offer you the bed. I could sleep down here." His smirk vanished at her words.

"No, it's yours now go back to sleep."

"You can't tell me You enjoy sleeping down here." She was quite confident that he was the opposite of happy with the sleeping arrangement.

"I didn't say I enjoyed it. I said you keep the bed. Run along Granger." Hermione was filled with a million more questions now. The boy was complex. Something was laying beneath the surface. Something that she had barely began to grasp at.

"But the couch is much too small for you." She pointed out carefully.

"And my patience is much too thin for this conversation. It doesn't seem to be stopping you." Draco pointed out harshly.

"You look at me weird." The statement was out in the open without her even realizing that the thought had entered into her mind. She watched as he tensed on the couch. She was pushing her luck here.

"I don't know what you mean. You need some sleep." He was giving her an opportunity to leave. To turn back and forget about the whole conversation and her embarrassment.

"No, I want to know why. You look at me all the time and I don't know why."

"There isn't anybody else around to look at Granger. Go to bed. Now."

"No, you look at me like I'm sick or something. You've been starring at me and I want to know why." She was insistent. She knew that soon his temper would get the best of him but she couldn't stop the curiosity. Something about the whole situation would fall together if only she had a proper answer.

He laughed mirthlessly.

"You think I'm looking at you like you're sick?"

"Well yes, like I disgust you." Her voice was soft. He wasn't reacting the way she was expecting him too. Another mystery. He got up from the couch and approached her. His walk was confident, cocky even.

_Ponce _

His hands were on her shoulders suddenly and she flinched. She didn't know what to expect from him. Not at all. When her eyes met his something crackled to life inside of her.

"Go. To. Bed. I'm not going to be answering any of your questions. So go before you regret something." There was something scratchy in his voice that made Hermione tilt her head in wonder. She wasn't done here. She could sense something that needed to be explored.

"I'm not going anywhere. Why did you save me if you think I'm a disgusting mudblood? Why are you still here if looking at me repulses you?" She was pressing at something deep within him. Something that he wouldn't have ever risked exposing in the light of day, but here in the dark she was close to some answers.

"I'm not disgusted by you for Merlin's sake." She winced as his fingers curled into her shoulders painfully.

"Then why are you staring at me."

"For fuck's sake. Hermione Granger go to sleep."

"You can't tell me what to do." She hissed and he shook her lightly at that. This anger was fading. He was desperate to get her to leave. Something was happening. "Tell me why." she whispered. Hermione watched his eyes close. She watched his mouth open and close like he was whispering prayers. She watched as his eyes opened and his pupil dilated to the tenth degree.

"Because you're beautiful Granger. Is that enough? Are you done embarrassing me now? It's because you're fucking gorgeous, alright?" His voice was shaking. He sounded unlike himself. Sounded unsure and unhappy.

_Dejected._

"Now please for Merlin's sake leave me be and take your prying eyes elsewhere. Please go to bed." He left her then, to return to the couch. He covered himself up and turned his back to her. She had never felt so confused. She felt unconventionally warm. She felt like leaving the room and never seeing him again. She didn't know what to say. She felt she should say something, but nothing came to her.

So Hermione Granger went to bed.


End file.
